Chewed Green Highlighter of Recurring Occurrence

There's a chewed green highlighter on my desk at work. Its not mine. This is not the first time that it has appeared on my desk. I know because each time I see it I am appalled by its chewed tail, and the knowledge that I never highlight in green (too earthy, like I imagine highlighting in brown would be). So who's is it? Who comes into my office and sits at my desk and highlights nervously, before taking their adorned documentation away with them? (Nothing on my desk is highlighted in green).

The Vernon Harcourt Nuptials

OK I haven't added anything to this blog in a long old while - but after floating around for a while elsewhere I've touched back down here. Last weekend I was best man at Olly and Jo's wedding, and that meant all sorts of things, and involved all sorts of duties, roles and responsibilities.






Clearly, however, none more important than the playing of the traditional air guitar with the bride...






There's a quiet dignity in the observation I think many will agree.

In other news my lovely girlfriend is dwarfed by pints of ale...

A Lorca Interlude

This has nothing to do with the Hill, but I came across an extract from a translation of a short poem by Lorca which I found appealing:

A pin that dives
until it finds the roots of a scream.
And the sea stops still.

The rest is all Who?> When? Whassat? And other staccato pieces of grammatical splurge, but this stands out. Its probably not what he intended to say, me no habla espanol, but I like it in English. For those who do speak Spanish, here is what he actually said:

Un alfiler que bucea
hasta encontrar las raicillas del grito.
Y el mar deja de moverse.

Dishwashers ARE a bad thing

News just in - it was us all along. The dishwasher has been leaking onto and through the floorboards, soaking the flat below. David and I sorted it out last night, but the damage is done...

Neighbourhood Watch

OK the situation with our neighbours is now poorly represented by this blog. Nadia is no longer the banshee of the corridor, the gorgon of the floorboards, she appears to have become a much calmer person. This is more than likely because she also now has a boyfriend. He stays over alot and when he does they play extremely loud extremely bad music and smoke together. Cigarettes, but like in the olden days, like its a pastime.

In her place a new danger has emerged. Liliana, who is another neighbour, has complained entirely reasonably of water pouring through her ceiling and our washing machine shaking the rest of it off in her bathroom... It is clear now - the real menace in this block of flats is... US.

We are the noisy tapdancers, the tremor-emitting irresponsible washers, and the flooders of other peoples houses... (to be 100% fair I, Bill Savage and our Landlord all think its rainwater that's come through, but the impact on our neighbours, and their perception of us remains...)

What happened to acid rain?

Or more particularly the fear of acid rain... In amongst all the hysteria (and it has to be said, the biblical weather), no one mentions acid rain anymore. Why is that?

Chinatown...

Something strange has happened. I think Nadia is the victim of a strange visitor. I heard persistent noises in the hallway the other day, I went outside, and a man who was parked right outside the doorway, turned off his light and drove off. I think the Nadia Threat Level Indicator has acquired a double meaning... I've still got it on Nervous Breakdown for now - as this could all be connected. But I'm thinking, there's deep levels to this...

Forget it Jake. Its Chinatown.

What's Up D'Oc!

Sorry, but once a pun is in your head, its difficult to let it go...

Yes, we have just returned from a really great week in the Languedoc, initially huddling round a fire in our little gite, then sweltering by the pool, which is an impressive 24 hr climate u-turn (rather than climate change, that's just the wrong vibe...)

Anyway - here are some photos, so enjoy.

The little car (it really is little - remember how small Loz is!)

Our arrival.

This is our terrace, and you can just make out Le Cerisier by the door.

This is the view from the terrace.

The aforementioned fire.

The fire being put to good use!

Loz in the Market in Mirepoix.

Me in the market (with giant hands for the day, which was nice...)

Here we are enjoying the market produce in a random part of the surrounding countryside...

And here we are (or I am) enjoying it a bit more, back on the terrace!

This is a view from behind the pool, back towards our gite. This, and the following pictures are part of a number of excellent studies taken by Lauren which perfectly captured the sunny mood and surrounding natural beauty, I'm sure you'll agree.

This is a study in relaxation.

An intriguing tableaux. Its arty.

A wood nymph!

The happy couple after a few glasses of the local speciality, methinks.

Also, there was a giant lizard that lived on the terrace. Loz photographed it instantly, like Simon King. Well done Loz.

PS the more observant amongst you may have noticed that the Nadia Threat Level dial has changed setting. We now have, thanks to Agent Lozario's diligent through-the-floorboard intel a lot of information pertaining to a messy breakup, workplace romance, and a lot of loud not-so-much-crying-as-dying... We're in the red. Hence dispensing with the scale described below and skipping to "Nervous Breakdown" (her words, not ours!)

The Jersey Triangle

In a dramatic new development in my otherwise ambivalent view of the island of Jersey, I now hate Jersey. My main beef with Jersey is that it is prone to fog.












Jersey Fog. Spooky...







And it has no decent air traffic control.











A Jersey plane trying to take off...








This meant that I have been marooned on Jersey for the last two days, as my original flight at 5pm Tuesday was fogged and apparently on Jimbo, as were the two flights I was rearranged to after that... I eventually got back to the mainland at 2:40 on Wednesday... If anyone is interested as to what jersey is actually like its difficult to say with any fairness, so I may as well say without perhaps much fairness that it struck me as a parochial, isolated and rubbish. Liberation Day may well be an important day in the history of the islands of Jersey, but as I heard the local radio station proclaim in the taxi on my third journey to the airport "they don't seem to be all that bothered about it in England..."

Superhero to Superzero

This weekend saw the big rematch. Vern wanted bloody revenge for the painful defeat of '06, and pitilessly he exacted it. Despite having not slept for two straight days he cruised into victory. At least the Vern and Jon Non Competitive course record remains 48 minutes, but I was a long way off challenging for that or victory. Special mention has to go to Al Brown, who on debut elbowed me into third in the Race within a Race, with a strong final 200 metres, which frankly blew me away. Some select photos below. Passingiton had a good day, maximum exposure, Fatboy Slim turned up and raced, and there is footage on the Argus website (including a brief glimpse of a fading Spiderman, and a bizarre Nazi salute from Vern/Superman at the finish...)

http://www.theargus.co.uk/news/videos/index.var.4398.0.0.php

Spiderman arrives. Brandishing a race-entry number. Scary...

However, he is shown how to run it in by Superboy, who although wearing a lesser costume, does not smile unnecessarily, he merely motors home...

They are friends afterwards though...
Its bloody hot in that mask...
Superman finished ages ago, but generously pauses from signing autographs for a photo with his defeated rival.

So, its better luck next year, the decider, when we will all be the wrong side of 30 and therefore be lucky to wheeze it home at all, let alone be worried about any competitive element!!

Geldof: Idiot

Sir Bob. He's a right prat. OK so live aid was a good thing in the 80s when everyone was so terminally, utterly, irredeemably self-absorbed that a concert highlighting the plight of Africans was a good thing (even though it actually didn't do anything to help them) - but what's really annoying about Live Aid is that it spawned Sir Bob. Who has in turn spawned a number of other inexplicably famous Geldofs...

Geldof's latest inspired public relations stunt is the "definitive record of mankind" - see what the Guardian has to say about it:

"He said that while the plan was designed to make money, it was not his primary motivation.
Geldof said he had been nurturing the idea for more than 20 years since he travelled to Africa for the first time.

He recalled sitting on a tree stump, gazing out over a "moonscape", and being told by a regional governor in northern Niger that more than 300 languages had disappeared in just two years during the famine that prompted Live Aid in the mid-1980s. "I thought, why don't we compile a record of every single culture that exists?"

http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk_news/story/0,,2059618,00.html?gusrc=ticker-103704

Dear god, I actually hope it is because Peaches, Pixie, Pineapple and Prickly Pear need a bigger allowance, because if he's actually saying "I sat on a tree and thought why don't I write an effing big list", and that gains momentum, then there's no hope.

Savage Garden(ers)

Bill, Anna and lil' Liam visited this weekend, and were immediately put to work assembling the outdoor heater (oh yes, there's now an outdoor heater blighting the Hil Top), sprucing the garden, cleaning the bbq, and resurrecting our herb garden. They did a great job, and are most welcome back (about once a week, on a thursday afternoon perhaps?).

Borough Market, Natural History Museum, Cafe Prov, Greenwich Observatory, fish and chips, the Masters and a lot of chocolate later (although not necessarily in that order), they have now returned to Plymouth after a very successful visit - organised slickly by Loz - a very happy Easter!

Spot the cheerful butcher in the background? Or the curious lady at the flower stall who seems to think she's being unjustly 'papped'?

Someone blended in effortlessly...

And there was an odd gypsy violinist, just in case it wasn't quite dickensian enough...

On to the crowds at the museum, followed by fun on the Hil 'o with fish and chips and our not-the-least inelegant heat source...

Is Nadia Mad?

Or is it us? The domestic idyll we have established has been smashed. News just in, our neighbour is a loony. Between tearing in and out of her front door, wailing like a banshee at the inhuman 'noise' from upstairs, or beating on the ceiling, she appears to be generally on a high state of alert for any sounds at all eminating from upstairs. Apart from having the effect of disrupting the evening in question this has put us generally on edge. The thing is, we aren't that noisy. Granted, there have been a couple of late nights of a saturday night. However generally speaking we've been quiet as church mice! It seems Nadia's threshold for noise is EXTREMELY low. We believe the main reason for this could be that our predecessor and landlord either deliberately antagonised her or demonstrated a fairly wilful disregard. Thus we have inherited an "angry neighbour". This site shall carry a new feature therefore: The Nadia Threat Level Indicator.

This will have, in ascending order: Silent Fury/Corridor Banshee/Ceiling Beating/Letter from Mother. Any alterations in scale will be incorporated as developments occur.

So this is a blog...

And this is also our home!

Its amazing the IT nonsense a day off sick will inspire. I'm currently sitting in our little study, cup of coffee in hand, trying out different blogs. This one wins I think. Mainly I've got negative experiences to show for all my efforts though... Especially Myspace. That site can f*ck off. I don't know if its immediately obvious how it works if you are 12, but it isn't to me... Its a mess.

Enough of the IT rant.

I'm very proud to welcome you to the online version of our home! Who exactly I am welcoming is a moot point - I think very possiby only Loz, because I will show this to her, and she lives here already so needs no welcoming. However, if you get bogged down by things like that, no one would write a blog at all... This is a virtual presence for our domestic setting, not only what it looks like, but also its active life, its challenges, its organisation, its highs (and I suppose its lows, although that seems a bizarre aspiration) - basically the mental state of its inhabitants: Lauren Clare and Jonathan Desmond.

Lets see what that looks like...